The Quasi-Outdoorsy

Overlooking the simple pleasure of a getaway is far too easy.

The Sweet Partner in Crime treated me to a weekend vacation at Natural Bridge State Park to celebrate my birthday. We had a rough agenda. Sleep in on Friday, get up at our leisure, and head down to Lexington to catch the last day of Keeneland. (I ended up breaking even on the day, thanks to a strong ride by a 10-1 longshot from Devil Eleven Stables bred by an old classmate of mine.)

After good times at the track, we headed down the Mountain Parkway to Slade. We stopped at Miguel's, one of the best little pizza joints you'll ever stumble across and unofficial community center to the "climber's commune" behind the place. We picked up a pizza and a salad there and headed for our cabin in the park.

We had a little mix-up at check-in. We opened up our cabin -- only to find someone else's bags already in the bedroom, newspaper in the kitchen. We called the front desk. I explained to the high-schoolish sounding attendant the situation and (after she asked "Are you serious?" and "Are you sure? Did you just check in?") said that she could get us another cabin. We went back to the lodge and received an apology and new keys from the manager. We ended up, by chance, in the same cabin where we did the Riesling tasting last year.

We settled in, finally able to enjoy the yumminess from Miguel's. Our need for bubbly with pizza is well documented, so we'd brought along a bottle of Royal St. Vincent Brut for the occasion (Usually around $15, found on sale for $10). The bubbly was crisp, dry, and had a little yeasty character. It tasted wonderful after a day in the sun and was simply delicious with the pizza.

The SPinC and I are what you might deem "quasi-outdoorsy." We love being outside, enjoy taking hikes, and think of ourselves as relatively adventurous -- but at the end of the day, rather than pitch a flimsy tent and sleep on roots and rocks, we'd much rather return to our cabin, shower, and cook a good meal in a fully-equipped kitchen. Some of you might consider that cheating, but hey...it's our vacation!

So, what did we bring along on this little jaunt of ours? Well, for general consumption after hikes and the like -- our old standard Redcliffe 2006 Sauvignon Blanc found its way into the fridge. For our evening chocolate consumption, we had a bottle of Benjamin Tawny Port from Australia ($10-13). An inexpensive port, it's got a strong but not overpowering sweetness, lots of flavors of vanilla and fruit, and a delicious finish. At the price, you probably won't find anything that can touch it.

The port also played itself into the meal we cooked on Saturday. We fired up the grill to cook some cardamom-and-balsamic marinated ostrich steaks. The ostrich was free-range raised by a colleague of mine at work (who, sadly, is getting out of the business). I'm a huge fan of the stuff, and if you haven't tried it -- it tastes like steak with the fat content of chicken. We did foil packets of vegetables and some boiled new potatoes. As a side, we diced a big apple and cooked it down with beef broth, the port, some honey, and more balsamic. Unearthly good as a chutneyish topping. Dessert was a couple of grilled pineapple rings, topped with more of the apple and port sauce.

To drink, I rolled the dice and tried a California meritage called Beauzeaux from BV ($9-12). 2005 was the first year of this blend, which has a Zinfandel base and includes juice from seven other grapes. It was nothing fancy -- just a straightforward, somewhat juicy red wine. Honestly, I wouldn't have wanted anything overly complicated with this dinner. There were so many fantastic flavors in the food that I was happy for the wine to stand at attention in a friendly fashion. For that purpose, it worked well enough as a complement. (Although I wouldn't recommend it with the pineapple.)

The rest of the weekend when we weren't eating? Other than a couple of wonderful walks in the woods (and with the slow spring we've had, we were right in the "wildflower wheelhouse" -- just beautiful colors) -- we didn't do much. We sat on the porch and watched the wind blow. We napped. We channel-surfed mindlessly (although the SPinC was fascinated by "Flip this House.") We talked and laughed. We relaxed. We slept like babies.

No email. No Internet. No cell phone service. We noticed that this was the first time in a long time that we weren't doing something. Both of us are really busy in our regular lives, and even when we have time at home -- we're usually doing something social, or catching up on watching shows, or we're checking email, or doing things for work, or running errands, or writing, or something that requires one or the other of us to be focused on something.

This weekend stood in stark contrast. Doing nothing, not plugged in for a couple of days -- not feeling the urge to be connected to people outside the room and the moment -- that peace was a luxury and a gift. No, we weren't completely "off the grid," but it was enough. The weekend gave us both nice recharge and a powerful reminder of just how easy it is to get caught up in the flow of what we find important in the "real world."

When did solitude become hedonistic?

Springtime in (the general vicinity of) Paris

Spring's my favorite season.

Watching the world come back to life after the long, cold winter is a personal favorite pastime. In addition to this wine thing, I also have learned to garden a little bit along the way, and watching the tulips come popping out of the ground always give me a sense of accomplishment.

Springtime means we get to be outside again. We get to bask on porches, in parks, on roofs, wherever. I feel a rush of energy and thankfulness when the sun is finally warm on my face again. Here in Vine-land, this winter seemed harder than many. Just seemed to be cold forever, despite our relative lack of snow (until the ten inches we got the first week of March).

Springtime also means we start turning away a bit from the big, bold tannic reds that help fight off the winter chill. It starts to make sense to crack lighter-styled wines again. (Unless you're my uncle Alan who drinks Amarone in the furnace of midsummer.)

The French figured this out a long time ago. Since they've got a wine for any occasion as is, it makes sense to me to look Gaul-ward to celebrate the springing of spring. Admittedly, most of these wines aren't produced within a couple hundred miles of the City of Lights, but work with me, people. Just close your eyes and imagine that you're sitting on a bench in the Jardin de Luxembourg with a baguette, some meat and cheese, and one of these bottles (which, in Paris, you could probably get for less than you paid for the baguette…).

Verget 2004 Bourgogne -- I'm a big fan of Verget wines. For the price and the ease of carrying (since they're all, to my knowledge, Stelvined), you can't beat them. Jean-Marie Guffens, by all accounts, doesn't adhere to many of the "traditional" French winemaking rules, instead finding grapes from all over France to concoct very solid offerings. This white Burgundy (chardonnay) is a very refreshing wine. The nose is apples and flowers, with an undertone of yeast, indicating that the wine has "laid on the lees" (WineSpeak for "sitting on the yeast after fermentation is done") for some time. The flavor is crisply fruity and slightly creamy from the yeast. There's no oak here whatsoever, and the finish is a little acidic. Delicious just to drink on its own, but soars when paired with roast chicken or any kind of lighter soup. $10-12.

Domaine Guindon Coteaux D'Ancenis 2006 Gamay Rosé -- This wine is made from the same grape as Beaujolais. I'd never had a Gamay as a rosé before, so I was curious. This Gamay comes from the Loire valley rather than its traditional home in Burgundy. It turns out to be a very fruity, medium-bodied rose. Nose of raspberries and a little bit of a floral scent. Flavor is berry and cherry with a nice, balanced acidity and some mineral flavors. The finish is clean but not extraordinarily sharp. There's nothing complicated about this wine and it's not as acidic as I've found many of rosés to be. It's simply an extremely pleasant patio or picnic wine -- a great pairing with cheeses and cold meats. $10-12

La Noble 2005 Chardonnay -- Not a true white Burgundy, since it's from the south of France, but it's definitely put together in that tradition. There's no oak to this wine whatsoever, going instead as a crisp, clean sipper. The wine has a somewhat appley nose. The taste is classic French chardonnay -- a little sour apple, a little citrus, and a little mineral coupling with a medium body. The finish is minerally and very dry. Another great choice for a picnic, since it'll pair with just about anything that you can pack in a basket. An excellent choice with shellfish or chicken, also. I've found this regularly for $8-9 -- simply a great value for a wine like this.

Georges DeBoeuf 2006 Morgon Cru du Beaujolais -- I would have preferred to do a pinot noir based wine here, but I couldn't find a Burgundy for $15 or less. George DeBoeuf has enough of my money as it is with my Beaujolais fetish, so what's one more bottle, right? If I had to find a Beaujolais to stand in for an inexpensive pinot, this one will work. I've shied away from GDB wines for ahile, since they seem to have such a corner on the market these days. I think they've started to realize that they can't just put out generic plonk anymore and have started taking a little more care, especially with their "cru" wines. DeBoeuf makes these in a bigger, fruitier style than my summertime staple Beaujolais-Villages. The nose is full of cherry and vanilla. The body is slightly fuller than "regular" Beaujolais, but considerably more complex. Nice balance of fruit and acidity with a little bit of oak at the end. The finish is fruity and pleasant. You could have this with a spicy Thai meal or chicken parmesan. Or just have it on its own as a porch wine. For $11-13, a solid offering.

Enjoy the sunshine…finally!

"Crap! What did I do to myself?"

Hangovers -- a hazard of the occupation.

No one can work with wine without tipping back too much from time to time. The morning after. The headache, the nausea, and the sun, as Nicholas Klar wrote, "is like God's flashlight." Nobody to blame but yourself.

But what if the pain isn't your fault? What if you only had a glass or two and your head feels like John Bonham has been using your forehead for a snare? I've had more than one person say to me, "I like red wine -- but I can't drink it. If I even sip the stuff, I get a massive headache." At the wine salon, two different people told me versions of that very thing. The "red wine headache" is a not uncommon malady. I wanted to see if, as a public service, I could track down the cause. After all, what good is wine if you can't enjoy it?

The first explanation I generally stumble across: "It's the sulfites in the wine! Red wine has all these sulfites in the U.S. I've gone to [insert European country of your choice here] and the wine doesn't have sulfites in it, so I can drink it just fine. And I can drink white wine until the cows come home, but red wines just lay me out." So, to cover my bases, I decided to go with an imported white wine. I used Il Palazzone 2006 Orvieto Classico Superiore Terre Vineate for this. ($10-13) It's a very flavorful white wine. (Side note: I'm warming more and more to Italian whites these days.) This wine has a nose of flowers and licorice. It's medium bodied with some soft citrusy flavors and a little bit of oak. It has a very easy finish. Tasty to drink on its own, but with shellfish or a light fish dish, it's very nice.

I thought I'd solved the mystery. Find unsulfited wines and you're fine, right? There are some of them out there. Unfortunately, a little more research turned up one very interesting fact: White wines almost always have more sulfites than red wines.

There is such a thing as a sulfite allergy -- it usually causes breathing problems. It's also a pretty rare condition. These are generally people who can't eat dried fruit and the like, since it causes them breathing problems. Why more sulfites in whites? Sulfites are used as preservatives. Red wine has a natural preservative built in, generally. Tannin. Wines that age well are usually tannic, so…maybe avoiding tannic wines might stop the headaches.

For a low tannin wine, I used DuBoeuf Domaine de Grand Croix 2006 Brouilly Beaujolais. ($10-13) This wine is darker in color and somewhat richer than many Beaujolais. It sports a fairly strong nose of cherries and blackberries. There's plenty of fruit balanced nicely with a solid acidity. Nice crisp finish, too. It cuts nicely through spices. I made a Thai beef noodle soup with it, and it was very tasty.

Tannins are known to cause a release of serotonin in the brain. High levels of serotonin can trigger a migraine. However, wine's not the only source of tannin in a diet, and no one's ever complained of a tea or chocolate headache. So, back to the drawing board.

A third possibility is histamines. Histamines can trigger an allergic reaction in some people, brought on by a lack of a certain enzyme in the bloodstream. This reaction can cause headaches, as well as flushing or runny nose. The levels of histamines in red wines are between 20-200% higher than in whites. Spanish reds are often lower in histamines, so I went with the Martin Codax 2005 "Ergo" Rioja Tempranillo. ($10-12) The Codax albarino went very well with New Year's dinner for us, and the Tempranillo was also quite positive. The nose was of dark fruit and spices, almost like cherry cobbler. The wine's lighter than it smells. Some nice berry flavors and well-balanced light tannins.The finish is easy and somewhat dry.

Histamines seem to be a somewhat more likely culprit for these headaches, although there hasn't been conclusive research on low vs. high histamine wines. Even so, defense against histamines may fight off some of the headaches. A person can drink a cup of strong black tea before drinking red wine. A compound in black tea suppresses a histamine response. Aspirin before drinking can also help, although aspirin after the headache kicks in won't help. An antihistamine might stop the headache. However, because of the alcohol, you might be in for a very short night if you pop a Benadryl and down a couple of glasses of wine.

If you are one of those unfortunate souls that suffer from "red wine headaches," there's a simple (potentially painful) test. Drink half a glass of red wine. If the wine is truly the cause of your headache, then you'll get one within 15 minutes. Otherwise, it's not the wine -- it's probably the amount of it that you drank that fateful night. B-12, Gatorade, ginger ale, and a sub from Penn Station the next morning are better bets to help you out. If you determine that it's actually the wine causing your suffering, try the black tea or the aspirin. After all, why should headsplitting pain be a barrier from enjoying the good stuff?

h/t to Dr. Tom for the post title...

Bordeaux Unraveled

As we move through the year, I’m going to try to demystify a couple of commonly referenced regions and/or wines you may see in your local store but that don’t intuitively present themselves to knowing what they are at first glance. I’m going to start with the grandpappy of French wines, Bordeaux.

Bordeaux is arguably France's most famous wine region -- although the folks over in Burgundy would almost certainly beg to differ. The region, about the size of the state of Montana, produces some 700 million bottles of wine annually. By way of comparison, the entire United States produces about 725 million bottles.

If you've followed along, you know that Bordeaux is not, in and of itself, a wine varietal. The wines are generally named for the village or town near which the wine was made, and the grower’s chateau. Although some growers in Bordeaux are breaking with tradition and printing the actual grape varietals on the labels, most choose to stay with the traditional nomenclature.

Since the label doesn’t necessarily make intuitive sense, Bordeaux can be somewhat complicated to decipher. How do you know what you're getting when you buy a bottle of the stuff? If you get a wine guide, you'll see a lot of commentary about "the 1855 classifications," "first growths," "Cru bourgeois," and so on. If you really decide to get into French wine, learning this stuff is a must. For our purposes, there are really only two main things to remember:

First -- where the wine is made in Bordeaux almost always dictates the makeup of the wine. There are three divisions, based roughly on the chateau’s positioning on the Gironde Estuary: left bank, right bank, and Graves. Graves is technically “left bank,” but the wine style is different enough to warrant its own classification. Red Bordeaux are almost all blends. Left bank wines are made from mostly cabernet sauvignon. Right bank wines are largely merlot. Graves are usually around a 50/50 split. While there are 57 wine regions in Bordeaux, knowing these will get you by, as the bulk you’ll find will be from one of these:

Left Bank: Médoc, Margaux, St. Julien, Pauillac, Ste. Estephe.
Right Bank: St. Émilion, Pomerol.
Graves: Graves, Pessac-Léognan.

Second, the quality of the wine. The lowest "rank" is labeled simply "Bordeaux" or "Bordeaux Supérieur" without a regional name. These wines tend to be a little more generic -- and will likely be about the quality of an American wine of a similar price. Most generics will be merlot-based. They'll tend to have either a brand name (like "Michel Lynch"). Some may be called "Chateau" wines, but that's simply nomenclature. It's a basic wine. The next level up will have the name of the region on the label. So, if you see a "Margaux," you know you're getting a very decent French cabernet. A "Pomerol" will be a merlot. This is probably as pricey as we can reasonably get.

Now, if you see a wine with the name of the region and the name of a Chateau -- you're looking at a high-end wine. These wines are further subdivided into five classes, which are called "growths." There are five "premier crus" -- first growths. These will be some of the most expensive wines in the world. (Like, for instance, Chateau Latour) You may look, but don't touch. If you do, one of your wine store's helpful staff will probably lead riffraff like you or I away quickly, then clean the bottle to remove our cheap-wine loving fingerprints.

What to expect from Bordeaux? There's a reason that the First Growth Bordeaux are some of the most expensive wines in the world. These wines, even the generic ones, tend to be somewhat complex instead of fruity. Take your time when you drink them. Also, almost all Bordeaux need to breathe. The "Old World funk" that I've mentioned previously is probably most noticeable in Bordeaux. Personally, I've come to like the earthy taste of these wines, but it's easy to be put off by it initially. Once you get a taste for it, though, you'll enjoy "drinking the dirt."

"Hey!" you say, "What about the whites, smart guy?" Easy. White Bordeaux are almost entirely sauvignon blanc, although you may see some semillion in there. These wines will be very different from SB's that you're used to from California or New Zealand. They tend to be less grapefruity and more creamy. They usually have more body than your average SB, as well. I think the flavor of these wines is fascinating, personally. Bordeaux is also the home of Sauternes -- where some of the best (and most expensive) sweet wines in the world are made. My experience hasn't ranged there yet.

Here's a sample of a few Bordeaux, just to give you an idea. These wines vary so much in flavor that it's impossible to hold up one wine and say, "This is Bordeaux." But you'll have fun discovering that, I promise.

Chateau Jalousie-Beaulieu 2005 Bordeaux Supérieur -- 2005 is apparently going to be one of the "great vintages" of Bordeaux. You won't be seeing them in the Chateau bottles for probably six or seven more years, but the basic ones have been released now, and you can get them inexpensively, for the most part. This particular wine is 75% merlot, 25% cabernet. You'll find a nose that would ferment "jalousie" in many other wines. There's a strong, deep aroma of vanilla, earth, and dark fruit. The body is smooth and medium in style (from the merlot), and has a solid, dry finish. We had this with a mushroom and barley soup, and it was wonderful. $11.

Le Rosé de Phélan Ségur 2005 Bordeaux --. It follows that a region that makes good red wines would be able to put out a pretty decent rosé. Chateau Phélan Ségur is on the Right Bank This merlot-based rosé is light in nose and in body -- it has some very nice flavors of strawberries coupled with a solid acidity. The finish is flavorful and crisp, making it a good food wine. We made a spicy fisherman's stew to pair it. The acidity of the wine mellowed the spice nicely and the flavors were a really good complement. It would go with any kind of spicy food or roast or grilled chicken or fish. $12.

Chateau des Tourtes 2006 Bordeaux Sauvignon -- Yes, this one actually has the grape name right there on the label, rather than making you guess. As I mentioned, rather than being grapefruity or herbaceous, white Bordeaux tend to be fruity, luscious wines. You'll find that this wine is very rich for a sauvignon blanc, bordering on the body of a chardonnay. The nose is full of lemon and peaches and the body is full and fruity. It's not as acidic as some sauvignon blancs, so the finish tends to be less crisp -- but it's light, fruity, and long lasting. Fish, again, is a great complement -- crab cakes, poached salmon, even sushi would work with this. $10-11.

Greatest Misses

From a recent conversation:

"You know, Mike -- by nature, you're more or less a cynical bastard. But when you write about wine, you always say such positive things. Have you ever run into a wine you didn't like?"

It's a good question. I mean, I'm usually pretty lucky with the wines I end up reviewing, but there are some I've bumped into that just…well…won't be on my list. I tend to spare you folks from reading about them -- but why not publish a cautionary tale once in awhile?

What follows are some wines I've run into during my explorations that didn't make the cut...

Cline 2006 Viognier -- I'm generally a fan of Cline wine. They're a good midline wine producer. Heck, I used a Cline in the installment where I talked about "wine sniffing." They generally make very decent wine at reasonable prices. I was excited about the Viognier, since the weather is cooling off a bit, and the weight of Viognier works well as we leave the heat. Also, I'm a sucker for a pretty-smelling wine. Unfortunately, things stopped there. The nose was slightly perfumey, like many Viogniers -- but not as strong as I'm used to. The body can only be described as "weak." It was like drinking fruity water, and the finish was the definition of what they call in WineSpeak, "flabby." Much better Viogniers are available.

Domaine Guindon 2005 Muscadet -- A friend of mine recommended a muscadet not long ago, and I wondered why I hadn't made myself at least passingly familiar with the varietal. I bought one at the store, chilled it a bit, gave it a swig, and remembered why I'd not done so. When I first started learning about wine, I picked up a Kevin Zraly wine course book and worked my way through. One of the first stops was "The White Wines of France." In the Loire Valley region, they make wine from the muscadet grape. That's not to be confused with Muscat -- the grape used for any number of sweeter white & dessert wines. This grape yields a somewhat dry wine which allegedly pairs well with shrimp & shellfish. I remember not exactly finding it to my liking. I'd not bought another -- until this one. And I remembered immediately why I didn't much care for it. The nose of this wine smelled alkaline to me, almost metallic. The main taste of the wine is incredibly dry and quickly turns really tart. The finish of the wine left my tongue feeling like a carpet. In fairness, since then I found that muscadet is fabulous with oysters on the half-shell, but unless you've got some salty shellfish on the menu, you might want to look elsewhere.

Australian Riesling in General -- As anyone who knows me will tell you, I love me some Riesling. I enjoy this wine because: (a) It's food friendly. (b) It's affordable. (c) It's generally yummy. I've also read recently that Australia has been "very successful" at growing Riesling. If that's so, I haven't run into many. I've tried a couple -- Lindemans 2004 "Bin 75" Riesling and Rosemount Estates 2005 Riesling. Given, both are from large-scale producers. Both are semi-sweet and crisp, and you'll get some lemon and apple from each, but nothing to write home about. They're both pretty inexpensive, so if you're doing a dinner party and your guests aren't picky, they'll probably all like this. If they are picky, make sure you get some food and other wines in them before cracking this one. Seriously -- if any of you out there in VineLand have some suggestions for Aussie Riesling, please pass them along. I hate to write off an entire country's varietal, after all.

There you have it -- a few of the wines I'd think twice about. Feel free to disagree. If there are wines you expected to be something special (or at least decent) and ended up disappointing, share your stories. Think of it as group therapy.

Make Wine Not War

A bit behind on putting this up -- Vine reader James Armstrong (the "Strange Man for a Strange World" on my blogroll) forwarded this op-ed from the New York Times. You think wine's not a serious business here in the States? In France, they're setting off IED's over frustration towards the government's strict production laws, the "wine lake," and exporting difficulties. Have a read -- it's fascinating, albeit very sad, stuff.



Changing LINKS

Headfirst into the Wine Lake

French wine can be confusing.

As I've noted, French wines are usually tagged with the name of the region from which the wine hails. From there we can often get the specific city, the estate, the quality of the vines, and even the specific vineyard from which the grapes were harvested. From "Appellation d'Origine Contrôlée" to "Vin Délimités de Qualité Supérieure," French wine labels are a cascade of vocabulary. There's usually one thing missing:

The frickin' grape the wine's made from.

Unless you've done your homework, you likely wouldn't know that the 2005 Domaine/Maison Jean-Marc Brocard St. Bris is a nine-dollar bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.

The French cling strongly to their winemaking tradition. Historically, they take as much pride in viniculture as in philosophy, art, or Fabian Barthez. Time changes all things.

French per capita wine drinking has dropped steadily for the last 40 years. In the 1990's alone, consumption dropped by almost 20 percent. During the same period, other countries markedly improved their own winemaking techniques, reducing demand for French wine worldwide. The "Freedom Fries" nonsense in the U.S. in the early 2000s exacerbated the situation. The result? A huge glut of wine -- known as the "Wine Lake."

The French government attempted to drain the lake by sponsoring vine pulls (as in Australia) and by converting some of the wine to industrial alcohol. Neither made much of a dent.

The French stood fast for a long time to their tradition, but they saw the effectiveness of Australia's marketing plan: the sale of inexpensive, easy to understand wine to the U.S., China, and others.

France followed suit. Some French winemakers began marketing table wines labeled by varietal instead of location. They've also changed their bottling schemes. Gone are the pictures of chateaux and avalanches of hard to read script. In its place, very "normal" looking bottles. More often than not, the results have been pretty decent. For example:

Les Jamelles 2005 Sauvignon Blanc -- Before the first shoots of The Vine caught sunlight, Les Jamelles was one of the first inexpensive French wines I discovered. It's been a solid, consistent choice ever since. This very drinkable Sauvignon Blanc has floral notes and peaches on the nose. The flavor is very light without too much initial acidity. The flavor is nice, round and peachy with some more citrusy flavor on the end. The crisp finish makes it perfect for the pool or any light meat or fish dish. $9-10.

Red Bicyclette 2005 Pinot Noir -- This pinot surprised me. We opened a bottle of this (among others) one night for the heck of it on our back patio with some friends of ours, and the bottle might have lasted fifteen minutes. Of course, that might have had to do with the company as much as the wine, but I digress. In any case, for the price, I certainly didn't expect a pinot this good. The nose is soft with cherries, and the flavor is very silky. Lots of berries and cherries. The finish was "relaxed." I thought it was a great kick-back wine, especially if coupled with some crackers and mild cheese – and, of course, the friends and conversation. Again, $9-10.

Georges Duboeuf 2005 Merlot Reserve -- Good old Duboeuf. Since they've basically cornered the market on inexpensive Beaujolais, it was only expected that they might expand a bit to other grapes. I've started seeing a number of other Duboeuf offerings of varietal wines on the shelves lately, and I'll likely look into them more closely soon. This merlot has a fruity nose of blackberries. It's medium-bodied and a little bit dry. The finish is "quicker" than and not as fruity as many merlots. I'd place it squarely in the "inoffensive" category -- not bad if you're not thinking about it, but probably not the best to pair up with food. The draw of this wine is the brightly multicolored bottle. As a "party" red, this would be a good choice at around $8-9.

By all accounts, the wine lake is still somewhat deep. While the high end French wines remain high end, the inexpensive versions should remain relatively good buys for the immediate future. Give them a swirl and see what you get -- and if you find one worth sharing, please do!

Cannonball!

"Shall I unscrew it for you?"

One of my favorite sitcoms of all time is Night Court. In one memorable episode, Dan Fielding, the Lothario of all prosecutors (played brilliantly by John Larroquette), finally gets his chance to bed his nemesis, defense attorney Christine Sullivan. Always the…ahem…gentleman, Dan takes Christine out for dinner, orders some bubbly, and the maître d' delivers a classic line:

"Chateau Libido isn't one of our usual selections. Shall I unscrew it for you?"

Screwcaps and cheap wine have a long association. For years, only wines of last resort had screwtops instead of corks. These wines generally could be found comfortably nestled in paper bags in the hands of…well…people who regularly drink wines of last resort. For many years, screwcaps had this unfortunate association.

Oxygen is generally the #1 enemy of wine. If you've ever had the misfortune to drink from a bottle with a deteriorated cork, you know that vinegar taste well. In addition, there's a chemical compound called TCA that can form in a cork when moisture, chlorine, and mold interact. This causes a wine to taste like damp cardboard. When a wine takes on this flavor, it’s said to be “corked” – an affliction affecting about one bottle per case of imported wine, on average.

Enter the "Stelvin closure." Stelvins were invented in the 1950's in France. The Stelvin is a screwtop designed specifically for use with wine bottles. Stelvins are two-piece caps that create a virtually airtight seal, thus no "corked" wine or rotting closures. They're also much more environmentally friendly, since no trees are damaged in the making of these closures. In the late 90's, Australia became the first country to use screwtops widely. Some California winemakers (most notably Bonny Doon) followed suit in the early 2000's. Some vintners now put $100+ wine in screw top bottles.

The Stelvin's popularity continues to spread. About 10 percent of all wine bottled worldwide now are sealed with screwtops. Two issues prevent screwtops from becoming more widespread. First, aging. No one knows how well wine will age in a screwtop bottle. Second, romance. Many feel there's something magical to that "pop" of a freshly drawn cork.

Since we're not worried about aging and you can open wines in another room -- I say ease of use wins out. Worse to be caught corkscrewless than seem cheap. Also, since you can twist the top back on and the seal is airtight, the wine maintains taste for a longer period of time. So, try a couple of these and twist to your heart's content:

Hogue 2005 Washington State Pinot Grigio -- Hogue was one of the first large-scale U.S. winemakers to switch to Stelvins. They've always done decent, inexpensive wine -- but they grabbed a larger market share after making the twist switch. As for the wine itself, the nose is light with peach and apple scents. The body is full for a pinot grigio. It's a little acidic, but with an interesting creaminess. The finish is of decent length with a refreshing end. You could consider serving this with slightly heavier food than you might an ordinary pinot grigio. Fettucini alfredo, grilled shrimp, etc… $8-10.

Twin Wells 2004 Terra Australis Reserve Shiraz: "So a Frenchman goes to Australia…" No, I don't know a punchline, and I have no idea if the winemaker is really a French expat, but this wine is as close to Europe as I've had from Australia. Since the Ozzies started this trend on a large scale, we need a wine from Down Under as an appropriate representative. The Sweet Partner in Crime gave me this wine as a blind test, and I thought I was sniffing a Cotes-du-Rhone. The nose was a little too rich and fruity for a C-d-R, but the "Old World Funk" seemed to be there. The flavor is definitely Australian Shiraz: big, dark fruits -- but with an earthier body than most. The finish is long, a little tannic, and a little tart. The price is what blew me away on this one. Found this at Trader Joe's for $7. Serve with your typical shiraz foods: grilled meats, roasted chicken, lamb, steak, and so on.

Verget du Sud 2006 Rosé de Syrah -- Not even the stodgy French could resist the temptation of the Stelvin. Winemaker Jean-Marie Guffens is a traveler. He wanders France looking for small growers producing good grapes -- but doesn't limit himself to the grapes of a particular region. His wines are exclusively (to my knowledge) capped with Stelvins. This rosé is made from southern Rhone Valley Syrah. This is a "pretty smelling" rosé -- lots of flowers and pineapple. It's very nicely balanced to taste -- the fruit isn't overcome by any acidic "bite." The finish does turn tart and a little dry. The combination of acidity and full (for rosé) body would make this a winner with almost any food short of heavy beef and sauces. With anything shellfish related, especially a fish stew or paella, it brings down the house. $9-12.

Any of these selections would be superior to D.A. Fielding’s choice of sparkling wine. But few men have walked the earth armed with a better coup de grace than Dan’s clincher:

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways....I know 52 of them."

Court adjourned!

Turning Back the Clock -- Chenin Blanc

The 70's. Sit back and smell the polyester.

Imagine looking in the avocado-colored fridge of any groovy, shag-carpeted urban apartment. You'll find a bottle or jug of white wine -- probably either Krug or Gallo. In script on the label -- "Chenin Blanc." (The red in the cabinet above the fridge is no doubt a "Burgundy," but we've covered that…) Merlot's "Sideways" downturn pales in comparison to the utter destruction of Chenin Blanc in the U.S. for years by this marketing ploy.

A shame. Chenin Blanc may have fallen from the ranks of the more popular wines -- but it's a pretty incredible grape. Chenin Blanc may be the most versatile grape on the planet. Winemakers put together everything from sparkling wine to crisp, flavorful whites to some of the best dessert wines in the world. Chenin Blanc grows almost anywhere, as well.

The best Chenin Blanc is grown in the Loire Valley in France. The dessert wines from the Loire rival even Sauternes for renown. The best Chenin table wines in the Loire come from Vouvray. Chenin Blanc is the third-most cultivated grape in California and is the most widely grown grape in South Africa.

Unfortunately, the ease of growing this grape has resulted in a great lack of care in some places, leading to some truly forgettable wines. Luckily, winemakers and consumers are starting to move past the wide lapel era into modern times, where there's some good white to be had. Done correctly, Chenin Blanc is an incredibly food friendly, drinkable wine. One of the few positives (for us) of the "Chenin Stigma" is that you'll be able to find a very good wine at a very reasonable price. Here's an example of what can be done:

Vinum Cellars 2005 "Chard-No-Way" Chenin Blanc -- Vinum Cellars was founded by a couple of buddies from UC Davis that went into the wine industry. The two of them decided to help the world rediscover this lost grape. They make their wine in Napa, in the heart of Chardonnay country -- hence the name of the wine. You start with a nose of tart apples and grapefruit. It has an extremely light body (in my mind, almost too light). However, after a quiet start, the acidity and tartness pick up along with flavors of pineapples or similar fruit. The finish is fairly long and quite tart. Vinum's creation is an ideal crisp, refreshing poolside wine. You could pair this easily with almost any light seafood or with wine killers like asparagus or artichokes. $11-14.

Indaba 2005 Chenin Blanc -- South Africa is growing great amounts of Chenin Blanc, with no end in sight as the wine gains popularity worldwide. "Indaba" is Zulu for "a community discussion." This would be an appropriate beverage for any kind of social gathering to get the words flowing. The Indaba is considerably stronger in scent than the Vinum. Citrusy. The body is considerably heavier than the first, which is a good thing if you ask me. The wine is slightly sweet at first, but then gets quickly tart. If I'd not been told, I would have mistaken it for a light, complex sauvignon blanc. The finish is quite easy -- a little bit of honey and tartness. Spicy food, like satay or Thai, would go wonderfully -- as would something like pizza. Shellfish, as with most Chenins, work well. The acidity allows it to stand up to just about anything. And at $5-7, how can you go wrong?

Chateau de Villeneuve 2005 Saumur -- The Saumur region of the Loire Valley is the home of the best sparkling wines made from Chenin, but their still wines are quite good as well. Among our wines this time, this one was an interesting contrast. The Saumur has an interesting "yeasty" nose, which isn't as unpleasant as it sounds. This aroma is caused by leaving the wine "sur lie" -- meaning "on the lees." "Lees" is WineSpeak for "remaining dead yeast after fermentation." Before the whole "buttery" malolactic fermentation craze began, leaving a wine on the lees was one way to make the flavor creamier. There's also a little apple on the nose. The flavor is light-bodied, with creamy flavors of pear and vanilla. The flavor is very smooth, but picks up a nice tart finish -- which would allow it to pair wonderfully with any kind of shellfish, salad, or light pasta. I baked some scallops in foil with veggies, and it was fabulous. $11-13.

Until next time, bite the bullet, put the leisure suit away, and relax in the summer sun with some Chenin. Cheers!

Wine School! (Class #8 -- Riesling)

Riesling -- the crowd pleaser.

In my CinWeekly interview, I mentioned Riesling as my favorite wine of the moment. I mentioned it's "the most flexible," meaning one can find a Riesling to pair with almost anything. Since I love to cook and love to eat even more -- it's a natural.

I wasn't a big fan of whites for a long time. I'd drink them, sure -- and it was nice to have something cold around the house, but I chilled them almost to freezing and basically used like light beer. Once I started learning about wine, I grew to tolerate them. I thought most were too tart or too oaky. I discovered good Riesling and my eyes opened. Riesling was my gateway white.

Among U.S. wine drinkers, "Riesling" meant "syrupy-sweet German wine" for a very long time. As I discussed in my Riesling column, that's an unfortunate stereotype. While the grape is of German origin and the most expensive Rieslings are dessert wines -- the majority of decent Riesling out there isn't going to pucker your mouth. If you'd like a primer on deciphering Riesling, refer to the "Raise Your Riesling Steins" entry and you'll get a good idea.

For our tasting, I decided I'd try to put my advice to first hand application. On my birthday, I did a wine tasting for my family. The cast of characters:

• My father and mother -- neither of whom are big drinkers. They have the occasional glass of wine, but rarely have any around the house.
• My sister and brother-in-law -- also occasional wine drinkers, but the usual drink of choice at their place is Michelob Ultra.
• The Sweet Partner in Crime.
• My 95 year old grandmother who almost never drinks -- except for an occasional glass of Manischewitz.

They were faced with:

• Pierre Sparr 2004 Riesling (France) -- $11-14
• J & H.A. Strub 2005 Riesling Kabinett (Germany) -- $13-15
• Salmon Run 2005 Riesling (New York) -- $11-14

I'd rather my party did most of the talking.

We started with the Sparr. My grandmother's initial comment was "This is sour. I like sweet wines." My mom and sister thought "bitter apple" was a good description of it. The most colorful description was from my brother in law: "It's kind of got an odor in your mouth. It tastes like…I'd say…rubbing alcohol smells. Not that I drink rubbing alcohol or anything."

Rieslings like the Sparr from in the Alsace region are traditionally very dry. Part of this is due to the terroir, but most Alsatian wines are in this style. French Rieslings also improve with a little age, so this wine would have been very different after two or three more years. These wines have some fruit to them, but they're generally much more acidic than other Rieslings. I remembered Alsatian wines generally go well with shellfish. We still had some shrimp cocktail from lunch, so away we went. The wine's acidity worked extremely well with the shrimp. Everyone liked it. I'd imagine this would be a great choice at a raw bar.

Next, the Salmon Run. My grandmother liked this one "better than the first one." My brother-in-law thought it was "pleasant" and he said it "didn't have any nasty taste." My mother said it was a wine you could easily "drink too much of on a sunny day." My dad said only, "Fuller, fruitier." My sister said it was "tangy, but sweet."

American Rieslings tend to be middle-of-the-road. While they're not quite sweet enough to handle heavy food, they are good everyday wines. Most of the U.S. Rieslings you'll see will be from California, but the Finger Lakes region of New York is now cranking out some very good versions. Finger Lakes Rieslings generally have enough acidity to handle a broad variety of foods, and they're very easy to drink. If you're going to a party and don't know what to bring, this is a safe bet. With this particular wine, you'll get a lot of pear and apple flavor and a long, smooth finish.

Finally, the Strub. A German Riesling Kabinett tends to be on the sweet side. My grandmother indicated the wine "smelled and tastes sweet." My brother in law said the body tastes "like when you eat a bunch of sweet candy…you get that thick taste in your mouth." My mother thought it would be too heavy for food. My sister said it tasted like pears. My father reclined, saying little, contemplative. Perhaps the accumulated effect of wine, cognac, and Kahlua got to him.

This wine is very German. It would go very well with traditional Rhine-style cooking. Spaetzle, beef & pork sausages, and sauerkraut would be a natural pairing. It could also accompany anything spicy. Thai, Indian, Chinese, Mexican -- any of them would work well. As the SPinC put it: "Anything that would go with beer would go with this."

So ends our tour of the big six. A friend of mine contacted me a couple of months ago -- he told me about the "century club," a group of people who pride themselves on tasting 100 different varietals. I think that's a noble goal, but let's be honest. Unless you've got a lot of time and money, probably 90% of the wines you drink on a regular basis will fall into one of these six.

I hope you've enjoyed this, picked up some good information, and you'll feel a little more comfortable when faced with a wine list. I invite you to share of your own observations in the comments.

Cheers, everyone!

Wine School! (Lesson #7 -- Syrah/Shiraz)

Syrah -- the juicy grape.

Our final red class focuses on Syrah. (Or Shiraz, if you prefer -- same grape.) Of the three reds, syrahs are biggest and fruitiest. Now, I use "biggest" to mean the fullest body -- not necessarily the strongest flavor. Think of Chardonnays. The Kendall-Jackson had the fullest body, but the Alamos had the strongest flavor.

I had a misconception about Syrah. I was under the impression that the French cultivated Syrah, and after transport to Australia, gained its more common name, Shiraz. Nope. The French actually changed the name. The grape's name comes from the city of Shiraz in Southern Iran, the possible origin of winemaking over 7,000 years ago.

A French crusader brought the vines back to Europe and withdrew to his home for the remainder of his life to cultivate it -- thus earning the wine made from French Syrah its first appellation -- "Hermitage." In the 1830's, the grape was brought to Australia, where it regained its original name and eventually became the most-planted grape Down Under. American growers tend to name their wine depending on which style it most resembles. "New World" styles are usually called "Shiraz."

Syrah creates wines that tend to be fruity (and I mean dark fruit -- like blackberries and plums) and peppery. Syrah is the backbone grape (along with Grenache) of many wines in the Rhone region of France. The wine usually tastes "heavier" and goes well with big foods. Oh, and chocolate! For my money -- I personally think that the flavors of syrah complement chocolate better than any other varietal.

Syrah is considerably less tannic than Cabernet Sauvignon, and so doesn't generally age as well. Some vintages age better than others, but, generally, Syrah really comes into its own after about 3-4 years.

During a springtime of craziness, the Sweet Partner in Crime and I ended up with a free weekend that turned out to be unseasonably cool. Not willing to waste a perfect opportunity, we decided to cook up a few different pairings for the syrah. Our lineup was:

Estancia 2003 Central Coast Syrah -- $9-11
E. Guigal 2004 Cotes du Rhone -- $11-13
Penfold's 2003 Koonunga Hill Shiraz -- $9-11

We cracked the Estancia first and gave it a swirl. Smelled like smoke and alcohol, tasted like spiked grape juice. Much like the cabernet, decanting was necessary. However, once you open a syrah, you're committed. Even if you vacuum-seal a bottle, the big fruit taste fades rapidly, so plan to finish within 2-3 days, tops.

After about 20 minutes, we tried again. First up, the Estancia. After decanting, the smoky scent was still there, but much more gently. Instead, a strong dark berry aroma took center stage. The full body of this wine was loaded with big flavors of blueberry. The finish was fruity and was the least dry of the three. The finish is best described as "smoked blueberries."

Moving on to the Guigal. Cotes-du-Rhone is typically a blend of Syrah and Grenache. These are the "generic" wines of the Rhone region -- usually because their grapes are from all over the area, not because they're inferior wines. I find them to be good "starter" wines if you want to start tasting French wines. They don't have as much of the "Old World Funk" I mentioned before.

The Guigal's nose was light, with some berries and flowers. Since it's a blend, the Grenache made the wine lighter than a straight syrah. The taste was less fruity as well -- instead yielding more of an earthy flavor. The finish was somewhat dry, "leathery," and slightly chalky. While the description may not sound appealing, Cotes-du-Rhone really shows its colors when matched with food, like many European wines. And it certainly was drinkable on its own.

Finally, the Penfold's. This Australian number also had a fruity nose, but with a leather and vanilla scent backing it up. The body was second in line here, with a smoky flavor and a taste like figs or prunes -- not sweet fruits as with many Syrahs. The finish was full of vanilla and pepper.

We tried different recipes on three consecutive nights. With a warm, spicy lentil dish, the big winner (not surprisingly) was the Guigal. Earth goes with earth, and Cotes-du-Rhone is tailor-made to pair with root vegetables and legumes.

We made a slow-cooker dish called tzimmes the next night. Tzimmes is a Jewish casserole, made by slow-braising a roast with vegetables and fruit, seasoned with honey and cinnamon. So, while meaty and earthy, there's a lot of sweetness. The Estancia was the best pairing here. If it had been a simple pot roast, I'd guess the Guigal would have been the call.

Our final meal was mustard-coated lamb with rosemary-garlic potatoes. The Estancia is not recommended here. The other two wines ran neck and neck, but the Penfold's took the title by a nose. The peppery flavor of this wine meshed really well with the mustard and the richness of the meat.

We discovered with chocolate that the Guigal isn't built to handle dessert. The chalkiness comes out, but not much else. The Estancia really brings out the cacao flavor -- the deep bittersweetness of the bean, almost like coffee. The Penfold's was fascinating. The flavors went through transformations, with varying, shifting intensities of fruit, tartness, and bitterness. We felt as if we were tasting the component flavors individually.

One last note -- you may see a varietal called "Petit Sirah." While a distant cousin, it's a very different grape than Syrah -- one that yields wines that are even bigger and much more tannic.

One lesson remains. The final white -- Riesling.

Class dismissed.

Wine School! (Class #6 -- Chardonnay)

Chardonnay, the ubiquitous white.

Chardonnay is the United States' most popular wine -- and perhaps the most popular in the world, but I haven't been able to run down the exact ranking. (If anyone has a reference, send it along!) Walk into almost any neighborhood bar or five-star restaurant anywhere in the country. Nine times out of 10, the "house white" will be a Chardonnay.

The history of Chardonnay is somewhat unclear, but there is a town of the same name in Mâcon in the Burgundy region of France. A group of monks in Chardonnay were the first to cultivate the grape for "mass production and distribution." Today, almost any white from Burgundy will be almost entirely produced from the Chardonnay grape.

Chardonnay is an incredibly versatile grape that grows almost in any soil and in any climate. While it's a hardy, flexible grape -- the flavor changes radically depending on its terroir. Chardonnays from cooler climates tend to be crisper and tarter, while warmer climes produce fruitier, creamier styles.

To keep things simple, you can expect to run into three basic flavor profiles of Chardonnay: minerally, oaky, and buttery. Here's an illustration of each:

Louis Jadot 2005 Mâcon-Villages (France) -- $9-11
Alamos 2005 Chardonnay (Argentina) -- $9-11
Kendall-Jackson 2005 Vintner's Reserve Chardonnay (California) -- $12-14

First up is the crisp taste of the Louis Jadot. In French wine nomenclature, the best wines are named after their particular chateau or town where the vineyard is planted. Pouilly-Fuissé is known as the home of the best white Burgundies. The name actually refers to two towns, between which lie the vineyards. These wines tend to run $25 and up. However, "Mâcon-Villages" means that the grapes can be from anywhere in Mâcon -- the region in which Pouilly and Fuissé are located. For my money, a Mâcon-Villages is every bit as good at less than half the cost.

This wine has a very light nose -- citrusy and light, with a little scent of something like licorice. The taste is very clean and a little tart, like green apples. The finish is very crisp and pleasant. This is a classic French Chardonnay, which tastes almost more like Sauvignon Blanc than Chardonnays from other places in the world. It's extremely refreshing and light.

Next, we'll let the Argentinean Chardonnay give us the "oak" profile. Over the last several years, Argentina has become known for Malbec on the red side, and Chardonnay on the white. As with much of South America, you can find great wine values from there without trying too hard.

The Alamos starts with a nose of ripe peaches, but the taste shifts radically. As crisp and light as the French version is, this one is much bigger. The flavor is of peaches, toasted almonds, and smoke. You can't miss the oak here. You'll know exactly from here on out what someone's talking about when they mention oaky. The finish is smoky and lasts a long time.

Finally, bring in the butter. California chardonnays almost became parodies of themselves through much of the 90's, as the winemakers went completely overboard with "oaking" their wines. They've settled down a bit, and the "buttery" Chardonnay is becoming more common among California wines. As I mentioned in Lesson #2, the "buttery" flavor is from a process called malolactic fermentation. Some California winemakers are swinging to the other end of the spectrum and producing "unoaked" Chardonnays -- their attempts to get back to the Burgundy tradition.

The Kendall-Jackson smells sweeter and heavier than the Alamos, much more like peach cobbler than peaches. The flavor has a little bit of sweetness and some more of that peach flavor, but it's got a very creamy vanilla taste as well. Again, in comparison to the Alamos -- the oakier wine had a stronger flavor, but the buttery one was richer and fuller. There was a little bit of oak on the finish, held in check by the creaminess.

What to eat with these? If I were drinking one on its own, I'd go with the Louis Jadot. I'd also have this with just about any kind of lighter fish or shellfish dish. An oaky chardonnay will pair more effectively with something smokier, like grilled chicken or veggies, or even a filet if you want white with a steak. The buttery chardonnay -- predictably, goes more effectively with creamier sauces, richer fishes, and almost anything you can picture with butter.

We made a rich fish dish when we did our tasting. The Sweet Partner in Crime liked the Kendall-Jackson, although I thought the Alamos made an interesting pairing. So, in short, experiment and find what you like. There's a Chardonnay out there for almost everyone.

Next up, we dare return to big red territory -- Syrah.

Class dismissed.

Wine School! (Class #5 -- cabernet sauvignon)

Cabernet Sauvignon -- the "classic" red.

Under this wine's influence, great writing, art, romance, and history have all sprung. Grown just about everywhere, cabernet sauvignon is the world's most popular red. Known also as "claret," learning cabernet is an absolute must for a would-be wine enthusiast. So read on -- you'll find something workable.

The Sweet Partner in Crime and I decided to make an evening of our Cabernet Sauvignon tasting. Our three samples for the evening:

Beaulieu Vineyards (BV) 2004 Coastal Estates Cabernet Sauvignon -- USA -- $8-10
Chateau Gauthier 2003 Médoc Bordeaux -- France -- $12-14
Cousiño-Macul 2004 Antiguas Reservas Cabernet Sauvignon -- Chile -- $11-13

A quick note about the wines. As I've mentioned, French wine is named by the location in which it's made, not the grape from which it's made. Red Bordeaux tends to be made largely from cabernet sauvignon and merlot (which is why the grapes were initially grouped together). This particular wine is 55% cabernet and 45% merlot. In general, cabernets tend to be blends predominantly made from cabernet sauvignon, although some (like the Chilean above) are 100% cabernet.

We pulled corks, poured, and tasted. Initially, the Chilean and French wines seemed too alcoholic and without any good flavor. The BV tasted like spiked grape juice. Then we remembered an important fact about cabernets and other tannic wines.

Tannic wines like cabernets, especially when young (and anything less than five years old is considered young for a cab), almost always need to be decanted before drinking. Decanting is WineSpeak for getting some oxygen into the wine -- even before swirling. One of those pretty glass decanters is helpful but not necessary. For most cabs, just open the bottle 20-30 minutes before you drink it. That will allow the wine to "breathe," which markedly improves the flavor and aroma.

We poured a little more of each and then let the bottles rest for a bit while we made dinner. We did this tasting on the first nice night of spring, so we grilled filets and topped them with blue cheese (Try it. Trust me.), made some garlicky new potatoes, fixed a little salad and while the steaks were "resting," and tried the wines again.

What a difference! Now we could properly judge them. At first taste:

If you want the flavors of a classic French red, this Bordeaux has them. Even an inexpensive Bordeaux like the Chateau Gauthier has the complexity for which this region is known. The nose has "The Old World Funk." It's best described as an "earthy" scent (the SP in Crime called it "agricultural") -- like the scent of earth when you've been working in the garden. Without a little decanting, that scent also includes the gardening sweat smell which overpowers the scent of berries.

After decanting, you can almost taste the two grapes working together. The initial taste is "wet" like a merlot, but the tannins of the cabernet quickly catch up. There's some more of that "earthy" taste. The finish is very interesting. If you read enough wine reviews, you'll see mentions of "leather" and "cigar box." I finally understood what they meant after tasting this wine, which finishes a bit dry.

The BV was a huge contrast. The nose is very clean and extremely fruity. The flavor was much fruitier, with a lot more body. (Some would call this "jammy.") The finish was barely dry at all. The tannins were almost completely covered by the fruit.

The Cousiño-Macul was, again, very different. Before I let it breathe, the nose almost smelled like asphalt. But after a bit, that morphed into fruit and tobacco scents. There's also little of that "Old World" scent. The body of the wine was in-between the others and the finish was the driest. The flavors weren't overpowering -- some fruit, some tannin, and a little chocolate. (More on that later.)

(Warning -- the following is not vegetarian friendly…)

Big ol' reds like cabernet sauvignon go hand in hoof with steak. Steak and potatoes is a classic pairing with cabernet, which is precisely why we chose this menu. With the three wines before us, we tried them with the steak.

The Bordeaux immediately jumped to the forefront once we started eating. The earthiness of the wine was a perfect complement to the beef, potato, and garlic flavor. The fruit of the wine came out as we ate. I could see this with any kind of game or anything earthy like mushrooms.

The Chilean wine also paired nicely. The tannin in this wine, more so than the earthy flavor, cut through the fat in the beef and made a pleasant combination. However, I think this wine really would stand out in a meat dish that has a little bit of spice, like a chimichurri sauce.

The BV didn't fare quite as well. The best thing about this wine -- the fruitiness -- was lost against the flavors of beef and cheese. This wine wouldn't be a bad pairing with something a little sweet and spicy, like barbecue sauce or a dry rub of some kind. But with straight steak and potatoes, it was a surprisingly poor match.

We also tried some of the cheese alone on crackers. Again, the Chilean and French wines (especially the French) stood apart.

At the end of the evening, we sat on the front porch to enjoy the gorgeous weather. And, as we usually do, we brought out the dark chocolate. The BV didn't go well. The French wine was good. However, the Chilean and chocolate married into a wonderful creamy flavor.

When you're thinking about pairing food and wine -- consider the cuisine of the area. Historically, people make wine to go with whatever they're eating. Some wines are best as food wines. The Chilean and French cabernets are perfect examples. French diets are heavy in meat, cheese, game, and earthy vegetables. Chilean cuisine tends to be earthy and meat-heavy as well, but with more spice -- as found in a lot of Spanish-themed cuisine. Keep that in mind as you plan your next menu.

As for the BV? Cabernets aren't known for going with lighter food, but this one would be better if you want to go that route. BV needs light meats, rich pastas, or something along the lines of chicken teriyaki. Honestly, I think that I could find better pairings for all of those entrees than a cab. However, all is not lost. The BV is certainly the best "end of day glass" of wine -- easily the most drinkable on its own.

Next, over to chardonnay to see what we can discover. Class dismissed…

Wine School! (Class #4 -- Sauvignon Blanc)

Sauvignon Blanc, the light white.

Of the six major varietals, Sauvignon Blanc is the most delicate. Sauvignon Blanc follows only Chardonnay in domestic U.S. production -- although the difference between first and second place in that comparison is a factor of six or seven. That said, as people have become somewhat "chardonnayed out" in the last decade or so, Sauvignon Blanc has stepped up to please curious palates.

Sauvignon Blanc's origins are usually traced to the Bordeaux region of France. The grape is actually the parent varietal of Cabernet Sauvignon. Wine made from Sauvignon Blanc grapes tends to be light in body with a fragrant, usually fruity, nose. The taste is normally somewhat fruity and tart, and the finish is normally fairly crisp. "Old World" Sauvignon Blancs sometimes have a mineral character, as well. (Though not like the Grüner Veltliner from earlier.)

Among areas growing Sauvignon Blanc, the best known wines are from Bordeaux -- since, well, they came up with it. California, Australia, and New Zealand started creating quality Sauvignon Blanc in the 80's and 90's. South America, other areas of the U.S., and various other European countries now harvest this grape in ever-increasing amounts. You may see wines labeled "fume blanc." Same grape -- just a different style. (Chenin Blanc, however, is a completely different grape.)

Sauvignon Blanc is an extremely food friendly wine, largely because of its acidity. The acidity of the wine cuts through flavors that can be real wine killers. Some see "acidity" and think "sour." "Tartness" is a better synonym. Imagine lemon juice or lime juice -- very acidic and sour on its own. But if you put a splash of either in some club soda or tonic water, the tartness is pleasant.

I'll discuss more specific food pairings below, but hot peppery foods go exceptionally well with Sauvignon Blanc. Why? The chemical compound in pepper that creates heat is called Capsaicin. If you sift through some dusty memories to high school chemistry class, Capsaicin is a strong base. Sauvignon Blanc is acidic, and acids and bases neutralize each other. Sauvignon Blanc paired with spicy food tames both the tartness and the heat, allowing the food's flavor and the wine's fruit to shine through.

As I discussed with the pinot noir, the terroir of this wine has a major effect on the flavor. For comparison's sake, I chose three very different versions of this most refreshing grape:

Veramonte 2006 Sauvignon Blanc (Chile) -- $10-12
Yvecourt 2005 Bordeaux (France) -- $9-11
Villa Maria 2005 Sauvignon Blanc (New Zealand) -- $13-15

When looking at the three glasses, even with a wine as light as Sauvignon Blanc, there's a difference. The Veramonte is the lightest -- a very pale yellow. The Yvecourt is a little darker. The Villa Maria has the deepest yellow color.

The contrast continues with the noses. The Veramonte was the fruitiest smelling with a very distinct scent of grapefruit and tropical fruits like mangoes. The Yvecourt's nose was somewhat fruity, but was much more floral and had a little bit of that herbaceous scent. The Villa Maria had the most complex nose. The herbaceous scent was very strong at first, but mellowed after another good swirl into pineapples and vanilla.

The tastes were strikingly different. The Veram